I Will Wait
by MadamMuffins
Summary: By the side of Avalon, Merlin waits for the return of the Once and Future King. It is not until thousands of years later that the time of Albion comes again. By then Merlin has been turned bitter by time. The twenty-first century is a mystery to Arthur, so Merlin must teach him the ways of society. Things may be a little alien to Arthur - even Merlin. Can Arthur get Merlin back?
1. Chapter 1

**_Summary: _**By the side of Avalon, Merlin waits for the return of the Once and Future King. It is not until thousands of years later that the time of Albion comes again. By then Merlin has been turned bitter by time, he has lost that optimistic spark he had in his youth. But can the return of Arthur and the prospect of Albion bring Merlin back out of his shell? And just how much did Merlin miss Arthur? The twenty-first century is a stranger to Arthur, and so Merlin must teach the old King the ways of society. Even if some may seem so alien.

**Pairings: **Some Merthur (couldn't resist)

**_Contains spoilers for 5x13 and continues on from that episode. _**

**_Prologue._**

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

_Tick tock._

"SHUT UP!" he snaps at the inanimate object, eyes flashing gold as the clock explodes. The elderly man sighs, kneading his forehead within his finger tips. That's been the third clock this month that has faced that faithful death. He's tired. Tired of waiting, tired of time passing, tired of _death – _all while he could only stay and watch.

He had grown bitter as the years past, avoided the public eye and kept to himself. He's had plenty of time to perfect the act, after all. He looks around his home, or what's left of it. Magic can only do so much against the everlasting battle against time. The house, originally made from wood, is rotting and caving in on itself. He had long given up trying to salvage his home, just letting the walls decompose around him. It's not as though he had anyone to impress, he is constantly under the guise of an old man with a long white beard. People tend to avoid him that way, especially with that permanent scowl he brandishes in public. It's only around Christmas time that anyone takes any notice of him, and that's usually small children asking him if he has their presents ready yet. Then their parents usually scurry over and drag the children away before he can do whatever they thought he would. Some unspeakable act, he would imagine. The solitude life is what suits him. Ever since the Civil War. He made the mistake of making friends, and they died. They died tragically, while he was tending to the injured. He could have saved them, if only he had known. But he didn't. They were another series of deaths that could have been prevented. He was to blame and he knew it. He could have _saved _them. So simply. But no, that was not the course of destiny. Along with his bitterness over the years, he has begun to despise destiny. Destiny is the very thing that has landed him in this shit hole.

With a grunt, he heaves himself up off of his chair and grabs his messenger bag. It has become routine at this point, walking past Avalon. Of course it's not called Avalon in this day and age. The beautiful scenery around the lake has been ruined by roads and human life, but the isle remains untouched. And sometimes, if he listens and reaches out enough, he can hear and feel the hum of magic run through his veins. Today is no different than any other. It has just gone past noon and he was craving the caffeine he has come accustomed to over the years. On exiting his hovel of a home, he makes his way to a small café not too far away. A girl who has served there for as long as he can remember looks up when the bell dings, indicating his arrival. Like she does every day, she gives him a small grin as he makes his way up to the counter. The girl is pretty, light brown skin and just as light brown hair.

Exactly like… _no, _he tells himself sternly, _don't go there._

Of course he knew that his late friend had a child after it all happened, but he didn't expect a girl who looked so much like _her _to show up one day. Of course he had met relations of _her, _but none has resembled her quite so closely. After a few awkward purchases, the girl revealed her name to be Elaine. And he found himself disappointed that she wasn't actually _her._ Just her descendant. It didn't stop him for keeping an eye on the young girl, he did have a soft spot for her bloodline after all. Even though he thought himself shit at it, he felt like a protector of those around him. Shying away from the public, but keeping them all under a watchful eye.

"The usual?" she asks, cheerfully. He gives her a nod and a tightlipped smile in return. No more words are exchanged until she gives him a polite goodbye after paying.

Then walking past Avalon. He hadn't felt it in the café, or at home. But he certainly felt it here. He felt something old, something magical and something very powerful. Turning his gaze out onto the isle, the glint of something shiny catches his eye.

_No, it can't be… _

Even though he knows it may be a trick of the sunlight on the water, even though he knows that he will probably never come back, even though he has lost all hope – he makes his way down to the water. Luckily, no one is around today to call the police on a senile old man wading out into the middle of a lake. He spins around, looking for something, for _anything. _

Then a hand shoots out of the water, grabbing his shoulder. He gasps, grasping the hand, looking at it and recognizing every single line and scar.

It was his hand.

He pulls him out towards the shore. And there, right in front of him, dripping wet in a knights armor, is the Once and Future King, his master, his king, _his friend. _

The King looks just as shocked as her does, if not more. He looks up and down the body of his friend, taking in the wrinkles and the white hair.

"_Mer_lin, why the _hell _do you look like that?"

**_My first fanfiction on this website! So I hope I do the show justice. This is not a ficlet, this will have much more chapters – trust me. But I hope you enjoy and review if you deem this prologue fit to continue. _**


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin can't cry. It's not that he doesn't want to. He wants nothing more than to sink into Arthur's embrace and cry until his tears run dry. Merlin thinks Arthur may be expecting Merlin to do just that because when he pulls him into an embrace, Merlin just stands there, letting Arthur squeeze him. Merlin is frozen in pure shock. After all these years, his companion is right before him and he can't even react. Just as Arthur beings to pull away, Merlin's arms shoot out from his sides and pull Arthur firmly too him again.

"Just hold me," he mumbles into Arthur's neck. They stay like that a for a few long moments, just embracing. Making up for lost time. When they do break apart, it is only because Merlin begins to shiver from the cold water seeping its way to his skin.

"Why are you back, after all this time?" Merlin asks, his voice shaking from the cold.

Arthur gives him a smile, "apparently Albion is needed once more."

Arthur doesn't say any words as he leads Merlin of the lake, his arm wrapped around his waist for support. Merlin feels awfully silly having Arthur support him, but then again, he does have the body of an eighty year old man and let's be honest here, his limbs aren't as agile as they could be. Once out of the water, Merlin swats Arthur away. People have started to pass by and he didn't want any attention drawn to a knight assisting an old git. Arthur looks at Merlin hurt, even, that Merlin had had pushed him away. Merlin gestures towards the people with a nod. Arthur tenses, hand curling around Excalibur.

"Saxons?" he hisses in question, dropping one foot back to a defensive pose.

"No. Worse," Merlin says gravely, "tourists."

"Dangerous?" Arthur's eyes don't leave the family of five that are still to notice them.

"No, just highly irritating," Merlin grumbles and trudges on ahead. Merlin doesn't try to make conversation on the way home and Arthur respects that. Merlin is quite shocked by this, he had been expecting Arthur to be ordering him around or demanding what had happened while he was _gone. _But no, just silence. That is, until they reach Merlin's dwelling place. Arthur takes one look at the rotting door and pulls a displeased expression.

"Please do not tell me that you've been living _here,"_ he sneers, taking a step inside and peering around the offending interior.

"Do you want me to lie?" Merlin asks, taking off his bag and placing it on the table. The table wobbles unsteadily with its extra load. Arthur's eyes grow wide as Merlin only shrugs.

"We cannot stay here, not at all."

"We can't exactly go to some hotel with your dressed like _that," _Merlin gestures towards Arthur's armor.

"Why? Is it not normal attire?" Arthur esquires, peering down to see if anything was, in fact, abnormal.

"Times have changed, sire," Merlin says dryly. He takes one more look at Arthur, deciding that he's right. Arthur would not suit here, at all. And he wasn't sure if he could handle his King commenting on every single ailment this place has.

"And what in the world is a hotel?"

Merlin chuckles, suddenly recalling how much Arthur has missed out. "It's an inn."

"Perfect! We leave at first light!" he rejoices, seemingly pleased that he would escape the hovel. Merlin roots through some drawers and finally pulls out some clothes. He hands them to Arthur without a word. Arthur's eyebrows crinkle together as he inspects them.

"What kind of fabric is this?" he asks, rubbing a pair of blue jeans between his fingers.

"Denim. Just put it on."

Following Merlin's orders, Arthur attempts to get out of his armor. Noticing his failing attempt, Merlin sighs and makes his way over to help his friend escape the clutches of his armor.

"Do you have to look like Dragoon?" Arthur asks suddenly as Merlin pulls off his tunic.

"No, I just prefer it," Merlin hands him the jeans and tries to hide a smirk as Arthur struggles to pull them past his hips.

"I am not fat," he grumbles, obviously noticing Merlin's poorly guised smirk.

"Never said you were, sire."

"Who owns these anyway? They're tiny," he does a few jumps to demonstrate the fact that there was no way in hell that he would fit into them anymore.

"Me."

"Well that's helpful, you who's built like a twig," he sighs, looking down at the trousers discarded around his ankles, "what now?"

"I'll have to go get you some things. Will you be alright here?" Merlin asks, looking at Arthur warily.

"Merlin, please, I'm the King of Camelot – I'll be fine."

Merlin raises an eyebrow but doesn't pursue it.

"And Merlin?" Arthur calls just as he's about to exit, "get yourself something more _Merlin _to wear_,_ please."

An hour later and Merlin is wandering through shops with very little joy. So far he's bought Arthur another pair of jeans, some black slacks and a few plain t-shirts. Very basic, but Merlin had no clue what Arthur would like. He picks up a navy coloured jumper for Arthur and continues walking through the shop. Suddenly, something catches his eye. He wanders towards the item, tilting his head to the side and inspecting it further.

Interesting. _Well, _Merlin decides, _Arthur did say something more Merlin… this can be the new Merlin. _

Soon after he finds more to suit the _new _Merlin.

Another two hours later and Merlin travels home, hands full of shopping bags and a take out. Merlin hopes that Arthur likes Chinese food. Merlin pushes the door open with his shoulder only to hear the cry of, "sorcery!"

In the middle of the room is Arthur, poised with his sword pointing at Merlin's CD player.

"Arthur, why are you trying to murder my stuff?" Merlin asks carefully, setting down the bags.

"That… _thing _made noise. It made _music_ and there was no one around," Arthur explains, utterly flabbergasted.

"That, sire, is a CD player. It replays music already played," to show an example, Merlin presses play and the familiar tune of guitar rings around the place. Arthur walks toward it, very wary.

"Extraordinary," he murmurs, hands running over the device. Merlin's lips twitch into a slight smile.

"I got food, but it's going to be a little… odd," Merlin tries, taking the food out of its packaging and onto two plates.

"What do you mean by odd?"

"You'll see," Merlin replies, placing the two plates on the table and gesturing to Arthur to sit down. Merlin carefully watches Arthur take his first bite and relishes the expression of the Once and Future King.

"My God, Merlin, what is that?!" he coughs, chugging down water as fast as he can.

"Curry," he replies, taking a mouthful, "it gets easier if you just dig in."

They eat their meal in silence, just basking in each other's company. It still hasn't hit Merlin that the very man he has been waiting for all this time has come back and is sitting right in front of him. Merlin doesn't know if it every will hit him. He's afraid that if he looks away from Arthur for more than a split second, he'll be gone again.

"How long has it been?" Arthur asks, placing his knife and fork down in front of him.

"A while," Merlin replies, looking down at the table.

"How long is a while?" Arthur pushes.

"Just… a while."

"Merlin," Arthur says through gritted teeth.

"Just leave it, Arthur, please," time is a touchy subject for Merlin and he doesn't feel like touching on it anytime soon.

"Fine," Arthur replies sharply. There's a moment of silence before Arthur speaks again, "they're all dead, aren't they?" he says, more of a statement than an actual question. Merlin lets the silence be his answer as he gets up and begins to wash up the dishes. He can hear Arthur take in a deep breath, letting it all sink in.

"At least you're here," he breathes. "Although you do look awfully ridiculous."

"Gee thanks," Merlin replies dryly. He puts the plates away after drying them and grabs the bag containing Arthur's clothes and rooting through them, coming out with a pair of tartan pajama pants.

"It's getting late," he says, "I'll go make up your bed."

Moments later, Arthur follows Merlin into the back room (which could really be classed as a closet seeing as it had barely any room to walk around in).

"Sleep well, your majesty," Merlin says, watching Arthur climb into the bed.

"Arthur," he suddenly says.

"What?"

"We're equals, Merlin. Call me Arthur."

The next morning, Merlin awakes with a crick in his neck from having slept on an old wooden chair. He yawns and stretches, making his way over to some of his cabinets and grabbing a small vile. The liquid inside of it looks so familiar, yet daunting. Does he really want to go back to being Merlin and not who he's been for so many years? Not thinking anymore into it, he downs the antidote. A familiar surge of heat goes through his body as his hair becomes shorter and his beard disappears. He catches his reflection in the mirror. Even though Merlin is immortal, he's changed somewhat since the last time he saw Arthur. He's lost a lot of weight, his cheekbones standing out alarmingly – even more so than before. His cheeks are slightly hollow and his hair is longer. With a sigh at his appearance, Merlin puts on the clothes he had purchased. He even had to admit that he was being ridiculous for even trying to pull off these clothes. They were unbelievably tight and flashy, nothing like he would have even dared to wear in the past. Not that this kind of clothing even existed. The black pants were skin tight and showed _everything._ The top was slightly better, however. It was a grey long sleeved t-shirt with the image of ink running into water on it. The only thing similar to what he used to wear is his boots, this time black but with the same buckles and design.

In an odd kind of way, Merlin is content with the way he looks right now. He packs Arthur's clothes and armor into a suitcase, along with his own new clothes, potions and other necessities. He doesn't have a lot of things here, he never needed them. But now that Arthur is back and obviously will not put up with the living conditions here, Merlin is obviously going to have to find somewhere else to live. Something he's put off for quite a while now, but now that Arthur is back he has no other reason to prevent the move.

He looks up to check the time but curses as he recalls his slight temper tantrum and the exploding clock. Deciding that it's late enough, he wanders into his room and looks upon Arthur who is tangled in the sheets – very much alive. With a slight smirk, Merlin makes his way over to the window and draws back the curtains – letting the sunlight wash into the room. Arthur groans, his face buried into the pillows.

"Time to seize the day, Arthur," Merlin says, shaking Arthur by the shoulder. He only gets a grunt in response. "Don't make me go all lazy daisy…"

Arthur's eyes shoot open. It's only after a few blinks that he notices Merlin's drastic change. He sits up, looking Merlin up and down.

"What the hell are you wearing?"

"Something more Merlin," he replies, picking up the navy jumper for Arthur. "And now time for something more Arthur."

Moments later, after a lot of help provided by Merlin, Arthur stands in front of a mirror and looks dubiously at his new attire of jeans and jumper. The white trainers can't be missed, either.

"Are you sure this is the normal attire?" he asks, his eyebrow rose at the sight of the shoes.

"Yes, Arthur, I'm sure. I think you look rather dapper," Merlin says, taking one more look at the King.

"Yes, well, you would."

"Come on, we've got to get you some breakfast," Merlin says, leading Arthur out of the room.

"Please don't let it be that god awful curry, I don't think I could stomach it," Arthur seems to turn green at the very thought of it. Merlin just chuckles, but soon stops when he sees Arthur curl his hand around the hilt of his sword.

"No no no," Merlin murmurs, taking the sword from him and tucking it into the front of the suitcase. "People don't take kindly to sharp pointy things, now a day."

"But what about protection?" Arthur asks, utterly shocked.

"That's what the police are for," Merlin replies, pulling the door shut behind them.

"The what?" Arthur trots after him.

"Modern day knights," Merlin explains, "minus the swords."

"Then how do they…" Arthur trails off, deciding to leave it for another day. Merlin takes Arthur to the café, deliriously pleased at the fact that there are no cars to be seen. He didn't want to have to explain to Arthur the mechanics of the machines. Elaine is there as always, smiling even as she wipes up a spill off of a table. Merlin leads Arthur over to a table in the corner. On the rare occasion that Merlin actually stays in the café long enough to have a seat, he always goes to this exact table. Elaine notices them sitting there and makes their way over. On having a closer look at both of them, her thin eyebrows shoot up.

"Eh… what can I get you?" she asks, looking down at her not pad.

"Two rounds of toast and tea, please," Merlin orders without hesitation. Arthur can't take his eyes away from Elaine, obviously noticing the distinct resemblance to his late wife.

"I'm sorry," she says suddenly, turning to Merlin, "but do I know you? You look awfully familiar."

Merlin gives her a smile, "we're new here, so I'm afraid not."

"Right, silly me. I'm Elaine," she continues, looking torn between her want to talk to us and her compelling urge to leave.

"Merlin and Arthur," he gestures towards the gobsmacked Arthur.

"Let me guess, you came here because of the Arthurian legend and your names, am I right? Wow, what a coincidence," she lets out a breezy laugh and departs with a smile.

"Merlin… was that… is that…?" Arthur stutters, looking frantic. Merlin shakes his head sadly.

"Relation, a very distant relation," he informs him.

"But they look identical…" he breathes, looking at Elaine working on their order.

"Her grandfather looked a bit like you," Merlin says, but on seeing Arthur's face he immediately regrets saying anything.

"You mean to tell me that that girl over there, is related to me?" he asks, leaning over the table, eyes darting from Merlin to Elaine. Merlin nods slowly.

"But Guinevere and I never had a child…" he trails off, looking at Elaine with wide eyes.

"Apparently she found out after you… well, you know."

There's a silence as Arthur lets this all sink in. "And you said you knew her grandfather?"

"And his grandmother before that, and her grandmother before that, and her grandfather before that. I've been keeping a close eye on them, Arthur, don't worry," he tells him with a slight smile. Elaine comes over and places their toast before them with a flourish.

"Enjoy."

After she leaves again, Arthur looks at Merlin once more. "It seems that I have more to thank you for than I originally thought."

"What do you mean?" Merlin asks, looking up from the toast he's currently buttering.

"I know, Merlin, I know everything you've done for me and for Camelot. I saw it all."

_**I hope that you've enjoyed the most recent installment of this story. Review if you deem it worthy and do whatever one can do on this website (lets be honest here, I'm the tits at this website, it took me forever to figure out how to post the next chapter.)**_

_**Thank you for reading (: **_


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